


Day Thirteen: Boot Worship

by Badassium1970



Series: Kinktober 2019 [13]
Category: The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bodily Fluids, Boot Worship, Canon Related, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dry Humping, F/M, Facials, Feels, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Orgasm, Porn, Possibly Unrequited Love, Roughness, Sebastian Stan - Freeform, Sexual Content, Smut, Submission, porn with little plot, possible feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 12:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21136688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badassium1970/pseuds/Badassium1970
Summary: “I love you like this. Love how you try to act like you're too good for me but in the end, you’ll always submit. Submit to me.”





	Day Thirteen: Boot Worship

Your younger self would hate you right now.

Back then, when you had been a gymnastics competitor alongside Lance you had refused to give in to his ‘charms’ as the other girls may have called them.

If Lance had just been a flirt, it would have been fine, but he was a serial heartbreaker. Even if he was someone who just fucked someone and left that would have been better, but instead he made the other girls think he cared about them only to drop them after he got what he wanted.

It didn’t even matter that everyone had heard what Lance was like. The guy’s nickname was Lance ‘The Fucker’ Tucker for a reason and it wasn’t just because he was an asshole. Still, all the female competitors wanted him and fell for his lies, thinking they would be the exception.

Lance just had this way of getting under people’s skin.

You weren’t immune to whatever it was that was so attractive to him. Sure, you had wanted a piece of him, but you kept those fantasies as fantasies instead of trying to make them a reality. Your career was more important and you weren’t going to risk a bad performance due to heartbreak.

Now you were no longer a competitor but you hadn’t given up on gymnastics. It was all you knew. You were a coach and a damn good one. Lance had also become a coach. You never thought you would see him again since you worked different circles but then he walked into the gym you worked at while you were closing up, demanding to take one of your students under his wing. He thought he would be better suited because you were only a silver medallist, three times over, and he had one a gold, once.

The insinuation that he was better than you made your blood boil. You could have won gold at least once but there was a smear campaign against you. Someone had photoshopped a picture of you drinking out of a water bottle to replace the water with beer. It was easy to clear up but more people would have seen the damaging image and while people liked to think gymnastics was all about the sport, but a competitor’s image was also important. It was a testament to how good you were that you even placed at all.

You didn’t bother explaining that to Lance, knowing he wouldn’t care. He had a grudge against you anyway since he had never been able to convince you to sleep with him. You’d maintain that he didn’t convince you. It had been your decision.

As you were fighting, yelling at each other to the point where nothing of value was being said, he backed you against a wall. It was then that you realised how well the years had treated him, and it was unfair that he got better with age. Being pushed against the wall brought out your submissive side and lance noticed a change in your demeanour. He brought his hands to your wrists, pinning you, and you didn’t even try to resist.

That day you understood what all those other girls back then had meant and how they felt after a night with Lance.

For you though, it didn’t stop there.

Maybe it was because Lance hadn’t gotten what he had wanted, the gymnast you were training, or maybe it was because he had found what he wanted. You knew your submissiveness had an effect on him. He liked that when you were having sex you would do pretty much anything he asked. You worshipped him in the bedroom, or wherever it was you had sex, but outside of it, you didn’t treat him any different than you normally would. Outside of sex, he was still that asshole you couldn’t stand. Lance liked that. He hated how girls always went all gooey-eyed over him. Okay, no he didn’t, but he wanted someone who was willing to fight outside of sex, it made the submissiveness even hotter.

So now you were one your knees, basically worshipping the ground Lance walked on despite the fact that you had just been arguing moments ago.

The boots hadn’t been worn before, you have agreed to this if they weren’t clean.

They were nice; matt black and bulky.

The boots made Lance slightly taller and he stood with a new sense of power and authority, though that might have also been due to the fact that you were on all fours in front of his, hands framing Lance’s feet.

You held eye contact with him as you lowered yourself even more so you mouth was level with his boots and your glad you’re watching him when you see Lance’s eyes widened with arousal and surprise that you were actually doing this when you lick the tip of his left boot.

It’s shining with your spit when you pull away. There’s a smirk on your face because you know Lance had only suggested this particular kin of scene to see how far he could push you; what he could make you do, but now he was clearly hard, his tight jeans did nothing to conceal that fact, finding this hotter than he ever intended too.

You’d tease him for it but the wetness you could feel between your legs proved you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You lean your head slightly to focus on his right boot, letting your lips drag across the smooth material and instead of licking the boot you kiss it, noisily so that Lance knew exactly what you were doing.

After kissing up his boot you undo the lace with your teeth before licking the side of the boot, dragging your tongue up and down obscenely, putting on a show for Lance.

When you pull away to go back to his left boot Lance has other plans. He pulls at your hair, not too roughly but hard enough for you to know he’s ordering you to look up.

Lance is looking down at you and it’s like he’s a god, he often did claim he was, and you were merely a servant. He didn’t even have to say what he wanted, it was clear and you were undoing his pants without him even having to ask, but he still demanded.

“Blow me, slut,” he adds the name-calling almost as an afterthought. It helps him distance himself from you which he feels h needs to because he doesn’t want to risk falling for you. It was already strange that he had kept you around.

Before you get your lips around his cock you feel his foot nudge between your legs. You look up at him, silently asking for permission because you know you’ll be punished if you act without it and he nods.

You grind against Lance’s boot as you give him a few teasing licks before taking him in your mouth. It was a little difficult trying to concentrate on getting yourself off, knowing that Lance was enjoying this performance of submissiveness, while also doing your best to give Lance a mind-blowing blowjob but as soon as Lance realised you had ceased humping his boot in favour of concentrating on his cock he decided to help make things a little easier for you and held your head in place and took to fucking your mouth. You let your jaw go slack and focused on grinding on Lance’s boot. Your jeans and already soaked panties providing an unholy amount of friction.

You made sure to be vocal about your enjoyment, knowing that Lance loved the feeling of vibrations against his cock. You moaned when you felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. Before Lance you were decent at deepthroating but he had made you an expert.

You could feel yourself becoming close as you slid against Lance’s boot. Just thinking about the position you were in, what you must look like and the way Lance was towering over you was enough to bring you to the edge and you were chasing your orgasm with an almost mindless need. Lance preferred if you came first.

“Look at you,” Lance’s voice is soft but strong. His thumb strokes over your cheek and you can barely make yourself keep eye contact with him because while you love how dominant and impowered he looks you can swear there’s something else there and you don’t need to be another woman who falls for something that isn’t there.

“You look so good like this, on your knees for me. Worshipping me,” Lance continues and his voice wavers slightly, betraying how close he is, so he takes a pause to compose himself.

“Grinding on my boot like a bitch in heat,” he smirks and it would have almost been a sneer if it weren’t for whatever it was in his eyes, some kind of almost caring look. You close your eyes and focus on grinding against Lance and pressing your tongue flat against the base of his cock, trailing along the veins.

“I love you like this. Love how you try to act like you're too good for me but in the end, you’ll always submit. Submit to me.”

You whine at his words, and Lance doesn’t even know just how true they were. While you would never stop fighting him when he was being an unreasonable douche, you were more than willing to submit to him more often. To have this be something more than an arrangement. You hate it but it’s true. It will never happen though so you speed your hips up and thrust harder and faster against Lance’s boot.

“Cum for me,” Lance orders and you don’t last long after that, pulling off of his cock to let out explicit moans. It’s like Lance’s permission was what you needed to take you over the edge.

Lance watched as you rode his boot through your orgasm. He had taken to jerking himself off and he didn’t even give you a warning before he came, spilling all over your face, some of it landing in your open mouth and you swallowed it, licking his cock clean as you came down from your orgasm.

“Beautiful,” lance whispered so quietly that you weren’t even sure you were meant to hear it and suddenly all of the relief from your orgasm was gone and you found it had been replaced by fear. You needed to leave. There was no way you were falling for his asshole.

Lance tucks his cock in his pants and helps you up before grabbing some kitchen roll, which he dampens before giving to you. You give him an awkward that you and clean yourself off trying to think of an excuse to leave so soon, not that you normally stay for long, unless there are promises for round two, or it’s late. Why did you ever let yourself sleep in the same bed as him? Now all you could think about was how nice it was waking up with him curled up against you but it wasn’t even evening yet so there was no chance of that happening.

You went to stutter out a half-assed excuse when you heard that Lance had put the kettle on the stove.

“Coffee, tea?” He asks and you wonder what he’s playing at.

You know you should leave but you can make yourself so you tell Lance what you want and how you take it.

Your younger self would hate you. You kind of hate yourself because you know this isn’t ending in anything but heartbreak, but just like all the women before you, you were going to let it happen.


End file.
